Dearest flower friends,
A lot has happened since I last wrote. Most notably, I gave birth to a baby boy in June! It’s been a sweet, slow summer on maternity leave, and lately I’ve found myself returning to a question:
What does it really mean to be fleurvoyant?
There’s a certain freedom in creating your own word. Its meaning can shift with the seasons of my life, blooming alongside.
These days, to be fleurvoyant feels like dancing in the studio while I design. Taking long walks without my phone. Playing peek-a-boo with my baby. Deleting Instagram for a few days. Writing when inspiration strikes. Dreaming about future travels. Nesting into our newly renovated cabin in the woods.
As we move and downsize, I’ve also been thinking about what I want to carry into this next chapter — not just materially, but creatively and socially too.
Less stuff. More beauty, connection, and novelty.
I’ve been calling this my ‘curation era’: becoming more intentional about what, and who, fills my life.
It has me thinking about friendship. So much of adulthood comes with pre-planned occasions that bring us together: weddings, birthdays, holidays. But what happens when the calendar quiets down? How might we create our own reasons to gather?
Recently, that has looked like hosting spontaneous dinners at home, annual book retreats with far away friends, spa weekends in lieu of birthday gifts, and dinner salons with
Sophos Society.
I keep returning to the intention of memories over matter. How we might we gather and create beauty through curated experiences?
Which leads me to a little seed I’m beginning to play with: Fleurvoyant Gatherings.
A loose umbrella for all things experiential: community tea sits, themed dinner parties, supper clubs, flower retreats, herbal workshops, nature walks — and whatever strange and inspiring combinations might emerge between them.
For now, I’m simply planting the seed.
We’ll see what grows.
xx,
Em
